


He's A Multitasker Of Sorts

by hollypastl



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollypastl/pseuds/hollypastl
Summary: Just a series of drabbles about a girl and her asshole of a wonderful boyfriend.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

[he takes her mind off of sad topics...]

When she moves home —although she’s not even sure if she can call it that… She’s never technically lived there— it’s not because she wants to. It’s hard, but at least the closeness of her family eases the pain. The new school is okay. There’s nothing wrong with it. The kids are nice enough, but the accent takes some getting used to. Her siblings all love it and, in her absence, have adopted weird little phrases that she’s not sure she completely understands.

The one thing she might consider unbearable about this change in lifestyle is him. Because the devil himself manifests in the form of an unbelievably annoying teenage boy who sits behind her. 

Miya Atsumu is a special type of asshole who apparently has made it his life’s mission to berate and beguile her at every inopportunity. The problem only becomes more apparent the longer she thinks about her options. She’d already tried being polite, which hadn’t worked. Threatening the boy was a possibility, but only as a last resort. She didn’t want to gain a reputation for that. Getting a friend to swoop to her rescue was a good thought. It would require her to make a friend though, which was proving to be difficult. The middle of the school year did not extend any hands adorned with friendship bracelets. He is relentless, poking and prodding at her back with his pencil. Tugging at locks of her hair. Leaning over her shoulder to peak at her notes and doodles. Some days he even follows her after school, sticking to her side and talking her ear off about this, that, and the other thing.

The day finally comes when her mother texts that she needs to pick up her two youngest siblings from afterschool care. However, it’s Wednesday and she’s come to understand that as one of the days Miya likes to tag along on her walk home. She whips around when the teacher dismisses them, hoping that her stern demeanor will tell him she means business.

“Not. Today.”

“Huh? Whaddya mean, Hima-chan?” She doesn’t even bother to correct him on addressing her too familiarly. Her bag is already zipped up, coat on, and scarf tied. She’s out the door and home free before he’s had a chance to close his notebook.

Himari: 1

Miya: 0

She texts her mother back, saying she’s happy to pick up the twins. Her pace slows while she types and absentmindedly goes to check her social media. The mistake is only apparent when she sees him leaning at the gate. Maybe if she ignores him he’ll buzz off. She doesn’t make eye contact as she walks through the gate and he peels off the stone to fall in step with her.

Ignore. Ignore, ignore, just ignore him. She doesn’t last long. The elementary school is only a few blocks away and she doesn’t want her stalker to meet her siblings.

“What part of ‘Not today’ didn’t you understand?”

His stupid bleached head tilts to the side. “I just thought you wanted to spend today’s stroll in comfortable silence?” 

Maybe he went blonde so he could play dumb. She took a sharp left and hoped he would just leave her alone.

“Hima-chan? This isn’t the way we normally go!” He called. She could hear him jogging to catch up.

Falling back to The Ignore Strategy, she starts speed walking, gripping the straps of her backpack so tight, her knuckles turn white. The pep in her step doesn’t help. While the boy has an unabashedly lazy gait, he’s still 6’0. And while she’s a tall girl in her own right, his longer legs don’t have to work that hard to keep up.

“What are we in a rush for? Gotta hot date I don’t know about?” He grins, still managing to leer over her, despite the fact they’re moving twice as fast as anyone else on the sidewalk. The elementary school comes into view, and Himari can see her two siblings playing on the blacktop.

“Please, just leave already.” Akimitsu and Mitsuka have already noticed her and are sprinting over. He sure takes his sweet time letting the cheshire cat grin climb up on his face, because by the time he’s finished, he’s already given her a hard nope and the seven year olds are upon them.

“Neesan! Neesan!” They’re out of breathe from their mad dash but still manage to speak in unison. “Play a game with us before we go!” Aki begs.

“We’ve been practicin’ real hard! Please?” Mika holds the volleyball behind her back, like she’s slightly ashamed of what they’re asking. Himari is just happy the little angels are following her example and ignoring Miya. She lets them down easy, understanding that they still don’t quite get her predicament.

“Sorry.” She bends to smooth down Aki’s unkempt hair and ruffle Mika’s meticulous braids. “But I can’t anymore. Maybe we can ask Koki if he’ll play a bit when we get home.”

Aki’s face goes sour at that and she can see Mika isn’t thrilled with the idea either. 

“Niisan isn’t as good as you.” They whisper. Himari knows it isn't fair to deny them, but she can't help her situation and her heart aches for being a bad older sister. 

“I’ll play with you. Volleyball, right?”

Miya had been so quiet, she almost forgot he was there. Lucky for her, Mika frowns like someone’s just farted in her face and Aki glares vehemently. One thing she could count on was that the pair hated strangers. 

“What makes you think we’d wanna play with you?” 

“Who even are you?”

“Your hair is ugly.”

“And you have weird lookin’ eyebrows.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Butthead.”

“Okay! Time to go.” She grabs both of them by the hand and drags them off, shooting over her shoulder that she did warn Miya not to come.

He has the gall to look like he’s having fun. It only agitates her more.

[...by making her angry]


	2. Chapter 2

[he snoops in her stuff…]

She’s laying upside down on her bed, trying to read something for English class. It’s a gothic horror novel about a monster created from graveyard body parts by a flunky college student. The ordeal isn’t made any easier by Atsumu rifling around her bookcase, commenting on every knick knack, book, plant, and candle she has housed on its shelves.

“Is this…” She can’t help glancing over. She does it every time. She’s halfway into deciphering the next sentence when she realizes what it is her boyfriend is holding and thinks: ‘Oh shit.’

“Is this a volleyball trophy?” He looks puzzled.

The book snaps shut and she practically leaps off the bed, reaching for the gold plated figurine. She misses by a mile and faceplants into the floor. “It’s not mine.” She groans.

“Really? Cause it’s in your room and says Oku Himari on it.” He hums, not even bothering to check if she's broken her nose. What kind of asshole boyfriend does she have? 

“It’s from forever ago.’ She tries.

“Actually, it’s from last year, babe.” 

Curse her existence.

“Wow, I can’t believe my girlfriend was named best wing spiker in her prefecture,” He muses. “And didn’t bother to tell me.” She knows how this looks. She feels horrible for not telling him but there’s never a good time to explain how she lost the only thing in the world she used to care about. She’s slow this time as she takes the trophy from Atsumu’s much bigger hands and turns it over in her own.

“It’s not a happy story.” She whispers. “And I don’t like talking about it, so don’t go blabbing about it to the entire school.” She musters up a tiny glare. The girl almost expects his hands to shoot up and claim that he would never! But instead he scoots next to her and throws an arm around her shoulders, leaning back against the foot of the bed.

“You don’t hafta tell me if you don’t wanna.” He sighs. “We can put it back where it was behind your cactus and photo albums and not talk about it.”

She leans her head on his shoulder, clutching the poor trophy closer to herself. “No, I want to tell you. And you should know.” Sinking a little deeper into him, she figures out where to start.

“I… um— I had, well, technically have, an eye condition where my right eye can’t rotate very well. It suddenly got worse a couple months ago and I had to have surgery to fix it. Instead, something went wrong, and now I’m blind in that eye.

“Having two working eyes is kinda important for depth perception so you can see why I can’t really play volleyball anymore…" She laughs mournfully.

“My parents didn’t want me going through that alone, and they had moved while I was going to boarding school, so here we are.” The trophy plops down on her lap and she wipes her eyes with his shirt sleeve.

His response to her Tragic Backstory is to smother her with his entire body. She shouldn’t be surprised, Atsumu is a physical person, she’s just never seen it manifest when he’s trying to be comforting. It’s touching how much he cares, even if he can’t find the words to express it. He groans into her neck, where he’s buried his face. And she can’t deny it feels oddly good to have him anchoring her so solidly to the ground. Somewhere in the back of her mind she’s wondering what her family will think if they happen across this scene while passing her open door. —Yes, her parents kept that rule. The tragedy of being the eldest sibling— But the only thing she’s really giving any fuel to is the notion that maybe losing an eye isn’t so bad if it brought her closer to this boy.

Her arms move to wrap around his back and she tentatively whispers, not wanting to ruin the moment but knowing they have to move on at some point. “I’m sorry I didn’t know how to tell you before.”

He lifts from his spot and she would’ve said it was lazy if not for how purposeful he looked.

“Don’t apologize.” He said, kissing her so softly that she’s stunned.

Every kiss she has ever recieved from Atsumu has sent electricity through her. He kisses and touches her like a man starving in the desert. It’s ravenous and unrelenting. He leaves bite marks and bruises her thighs and hips with no regard for how visible they’re going to be.For that reason, she is astonished by the first kiss she is given that has not been a silent request for more from her. This time, his lips have only graced her to let her know that he loves her. Some girls might be sad they can’t hear it out loud, but Himari is perfectly content with his touch screaming it to her from the rooftops.

Atsumu has just told her he loves her and Himari knows because she knows him.

[... to get to know her]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you thought i was gonna write this in chronological order then get fucked baby


	3. Chapter 3

[he's only got one brain cell…]

The pace at which Atsumu is dragging her is unforgiving. He didn’t give her any warning when the teacher let class go for lunch, he just took her by the wrist and started sprinting through the hallways before they could congest with every other student in the building. The damned boy evidently had no respect for her privacy either, because she swears she just flashed an underclassmen the extremely provocative plain black panties under her skirt. She wondered if he would even care.

That was stupid. Atsumu was a territorial and jealous boy who would probably care about the things he had laid claim to. Then again, the heathen might view it as showing off what he got to have to the rest of the world. Some sort of ‘Hey world! See how hot my girlfriend is! You can look but only I get to touch.’

When he finally stops —and is considerate enough to not let her slam into his back— they’re in front of the gym. The gym he uses to practice for volleyball. The sport she can’t play anymore. 

She’s been here before. She’s here quite a bit. Delivering his food when he forgets it in class. Being called in to break up a fight he’s having with his brother. Coming to drag him home when he won’t stop practicing.

Not once has he ever deliberately brought her here. She taps her foot expectantly. He has to know she’s wanting some kind of explanation. He pushes the door open and flicks on the lights and Himari follows not because she trusts Atsumu, it’s more like Osamu says, she just knows. Some people might say it’s the same thing, but the pit in her stomach keeps her from calling it that.

“Alright, check this.” He says, tugging his tie off.

She thinks she knows where this is heading. “I swear, if you brought me here because you can’t keep it in your pants for a full school day, I’m going to slap you.”

He winks at her, wrapping it around his head as some sort of makeshift blindfold and Himari buries her face in her palms, close to tears because what kind of kinky porn has her dumb boyfriend been watching? It’s only when the all too familiar slap of a volleyball hitting the ground and feet landing on the floor and aformentioned dumb boyfriend cheering with glee that she looks up.

“Didja see it? Tell me it was inbounds! C’mon Hima-chan tell me!”

She chews on her lip, thinking she might be picking up what he’s putting down. She is painfully used to this poor boy and his nonexistent talent for using his words. She asks him to show her one more time and he dramatically pulls the blindfold back down. 

He grabs another ball out of the bin —with only one hand, which she finds oddly attractive— and peeks down to check his distance from the back line. He takes one, two, three, four steps back and swivels around, throwing the ball up in the air like he always does and darting forward to leap up and slam the ball to the other side of the court. All without looking.

She gets what he’s trying to say.

Which is why she walks over to him before anything else and guides his lips to hers. It breaks after a moment and the next is ruined.

“Makin’ out in an empty gym while blindfolded? Kinda kinky, ‘Tsumu.”

Of all the people to catch them, she was glad it was Osamu. If it had been Kita she would have been endlessly ashamed and refused to show her face to daylight ever again. Suna wouldn’t have even alerted them to his presence. The guy would’ve just whipped his phone out and started live streaming them on Instagram. Osamu, however, lived in the same house as and shared a room with his brother. It was just a fact of life that he had caught them in various stages of undress. This would be considered PG for what he was used to. 

He walks across the gym to grab his phone, most likely forgotten after morning practice, and exits promptly.

“Don’t forget ta shut the door on your way out!” Atsumu shouts at the last moment, earning himself a middle finger from his brother.

“It shuts itself, dummy!” She says, knocking a fist to his chest for good measure.

“Hmph. Anyways, where were we?” He’s got a one track mind. His lips are already falling down to hers and she’s almost caught up in it before remembering they probably don’t have all that much time left until class starts up again and she really does want to thank him for putting all that thought into her corpse of a career in sports. Even if she knows exactly quick they can be on a time crunch and he might appreciate a different sort of thank you than the one she’s planning on.

She pulls away, having to physically hold him back. “I really appreciate you finding a way for me to keep playing volleyball. It hurts that I’m surrounded by it at home, at school, and even with you. I’m not sure if I’ve figured out how to emotionally heal from it all yet.” He’s gained a peaceful sort of somberness at this point, eyes running over her face and looking for answers in her eyes as to how he could fix all her problems. She takes the opportunity to slide the tie off his head and wrap it back around his neck where it belongs. Just enjoying the intimacy and the silence of the act, she continues. “But you just happen to show me all the things I need to see before I know I need to see them. So, I don’t think I’ll ever have to be all that sad if you stick around.”

She tugs on his —now perfect— tie to guide his lips back to hers and lets it continue even after the bell rings, signalling how late they’re going to be for their class across campus.

[... that he devotes to her]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of the lines at the end here is adapted from a poem by Lang Leav, it goes
> 
> You have told me   
> all the things   
> I need to hear   
> before I knew   
> I needed to hear them.
> 
> To be unafraid  
> Of all the things  
> I used to fear  
> Before I knew  
> I shouldn't fear them


	4. Chapter 4

[he screws with her…]

‘Oh brother.’ She thinks, flipping her hood up to give her some sort of cover. At this point she can sense her pseudo-stalker from a mile away. It’s just her luck that he happens to go on his morning run at the same time as her. Of course he would HAPPEN —and she means that sarcastically— across her and suddenly find one more way to annoy the daylights out of her.

Except… that never happens. He jogs right past her without so much as a cursory glance or infuriatingly polite hello. That was him, wasn’t it? Sure, the baseball cap threw a layer of shade over his face, but the guy had the same height, strong build, somewhat lazy gait. Hell, he was wearing an Inarizaki tee! There was no doubt she had just passed Miya.

Maybe her hood had given her enough cover after all. But she thought he had developed a sixth sense for her as well. He would come across corners and ‘accidentally’ bump into her. Make her spill things all over the floor and help her pick everything up. He gave her an out when an upperclassman was trying to push off student council work on her. One time she dropped an erlenmeyer flask in chemistry and he caught it before the glass could shatter on the floor.

It was downright weird. The event had ruffled her feathers so much she took two wrong turns while walking the twins to school. Each time, Akimitsu and Mitsuka frowned and asked if something was wrong, but it wasn’t like she could explain to a pair of seven year olds what happened. Not that their age had anything to do with it, except for the convolutedness of the situation, she would just sound crazy. She told the twins that it was just one of those Mondays to get them off her back. 

Class started and she still wasn’t over it. It wasn’t like he suddenly lost interest in her. He was already poking at her, asking to borrow a pencil. 

On Tuesday, she ran the same route on purpose, once again passing straight by him. Hood down and everything. She made eye contact! Which yielded nothing. No spark of recognition. No hello. No nothing.

Again, she is met by the same behavior in class.

Wednesday is when she confronts it. She stops right in front of him, makes direct eye contact and asks why he’s acting so weird. The insolent ass furrows his brow like he doesn’t know what she’s talking about and tells her she’s being pretty weird herself.

When he asks to borrow a pencil two hours later, she says no for the first time since he started asking. She’s even petty enough to twirl her spare absentmindedly in his view. He kicks it up a notch, doesn’t take notes for the entire day, and asks to borrow hers after dismissal. Unfortunately, today is also the day he’s taken to walking with her afterschool. Coincidentally, it’s also the day she’s taken to spending with her two youngest siblings. 

Himari picks up the kids from elementary school, Miya following in perfect step with her.

Himari takes the kids to the library to check out a few books, Miya still at her side.

Himari grins when the kids insult Miya at every junction, Miya is a devious prick who bribes them with ice cream.

She ends up sprinting to catch up on their unfair head start, screaming that they’re lactose intolerant. Her heart almost stops when she turns a corner and the three aren’t in sight. 

Shit. Her stalker just kidnapped her little brother and sister. Curse the fact that she hasn’t lived in the area as long as them. Luckily, she keeps her wits about her and uses her phone to search for the nearest ice cream parlor. It isn’t far, but they’re already chowing down on ice cream cones and she’s about to suffer an aneurysm from the entire ordeal.

“Relax, I got them dairy-free.” He says, sliding her a tray of mochi ice cream.

They’re plum wine, which is surprising because that’s her favorite. She wonders if Aki and Mika just told him the little tidbit or if Miya had to coax it out of them. 

On Thursday she sleeps through all her alarms, is late to school, and nods off during lunch. It’s a weird sort of nap where she can hear everything going on around her, but she’s most certainly asleep. She can hear the class rep muttering about budget plans, girls gossiping over who saw who doing what, and Miya drawling on to another guy about his latest woes in volleyball.

It irks her because she knows Miya is right behind her, and it’s most definitely his voice, but it’s somehow not. The Miya she knows definitely drawls, but it’s the drawl of an asshole. He speaks slowly and without a care in the world because he wants you to hang on every word he says. Right now he sounds utterly exhausted. She supposes the idea of him being tired isn’t completely outlandish, all she had to do was look in the mirror, but something about the whole thing sets her off kilter.

She sees at one point that he’s dyed his hair another garish color and decides that maybe she’s going insane. The amount of brain function she’s devoted this week to keeping up with Miya’s antics is absurd. A normal person would’ve shrugged off what she found weird. For God’s sake, she was losing sleep over the fact that Miya didn’t acknowledge her on their morning runs.

Class ends and even though she’s embarrassed, she turns to him. 

“Look, I know—”

Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. His hair had been a grayish silver not even three hours ago. A trick of the light? Spontaneous and erratic colorblindness? Her mouth continues while her brain stumbles around. “You can say hi in the morning, you know?”

She didn’t mean to say it like that. Now he was going to think she wanted his attention. 

“I always say hi to you in the morning.” He said. Which wasn’t wrong. He always said good morning to her in class. Asked how she was doing. Sometimes she even returned the favor and asked about him.

“I meant before school. While running.”

His brow furrows together, head tilts, eyes narrow, and purses his lips. It’s obvious he’s thinking intently about something. She isn’t able to call him out on it because he’s already had the lightbulb go off. He snaps his fingers once he’s got it.

“Oh, right! Sorry about that, Himari-chan. I’m not myself in the morning, but tomorrow for sure!” 

She almost doesn’t want to get up on Friday morning. Something about the whole ordeal yesterday was still not sitting right in her mind. She felt like she was getting punked. Like some TV show host was going to jump out from behind a fern and televise her embarrassment live for all of Japan to see. 

She forces herself to anyways. Call it curiosity, masochism, pride, whatever, she was just ready for this to be over with.

Just kidding, she was not. Definitely not. Never in a million years would she have guessed that there were two of them. But there they were, running in perfect sync. If they weren’t wearing different clothes, she would’ve thought she had double vision. 

At this point, she’s stagnant on the sidewalk, having completely forgotten how to move. 

“Hi, Himari-chan!” He gives her a little wave and continues on.

It’s dumb really. She should’ve guessed it. Twins run in the family on her mother’s side! Akimitsu and Mitsuka could probably pass as each other if the girl cut her hair. She feels duped and conned and that’s what forces her to whip around and hiss at him while the teacher takes roll.

“You owe me ice cream.”

He obliges and at least has the sense to look a little sheepish for screwing with her. It’s only after they’ve gotten their cones —Plum wine for her and Salted Caramel for her tormentor— that he smirks at her and says: “Although, ya have to admit, it was pretty funny.” Pure feral instinct drives her next move because before either of them know what’s happening, Himari has shoved her ice cream cone into Atsumu’s face.

It’s mortifying. She’s frozen in place, thinking about the napkins she should get to clean him up, what kind of retribution he’ll rain down on her, how she’s probably going to be banned from this shop. It’s also quite funny because she didn’t mean to do it. Actually, she definitely did since she hadn’t tripped or anything. It was more like the devil on her shoulder had made a decision for her before the angel even got to hear the question. She’s sinking into a fit of laughter and his reaction only makes it funnier.

She would think he’d be mad, demanding all sorts of apologies and threatening divine payback. There’s none of that. He just looks resigned to his fate. His tongue darting out to lick at some of the already melting ice cream covering his face and dripping down his chin is what sends her over the top.

People are staring, so she grabs him by the wrist and takes him back to the bathroom. The least she can do is help him clean up. 

“Here, lean down.” She instructs, flipping the faucet on and helping him wash the half melted and sticky ice cream off his face. Some of it has gotten into his hair too, so she rinses that as well, combing through with her fingers to get most of it out. He’s quiet throughout and doesn’t kick up a fuss when she grabs him by the chin to inspect for any missed spots.

He just watches as she smiles lightly as her handiwork and thinks about the next shenanigan he needs to pull to see this scene again.

[... to see her smile]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo tell me if i suck at writing or not


	5. Chapter 5

[he drives her crazy…]

It starts slowly. They’re home alone. Cuddling on the couch. Watching Shrek. She’s warm and happy and about to fall asleep in the arms of a boy who is paying too much attention to the ogre and talking donkey, when he stretches and she happens to see his shirt ride up. 

She’s seen it before. She’s seen a lot more than that before. So why is the simple sight of his stomach turning her on?

It’s not like he’s purposefully unbuttoning his shirt and giving her a show, all he’s doing is stretching like a cat! This shouldn’t be causing her to heat up. If she had to guess she was blushing like a little kid right now, which was absurd because he wasn’t even trying to rile her up.

Still, she can’t help it when she hits pause on Lord Farquaad’s evil cackling and climbs on top of Atsumu, giving her plenty of control to do as she pleases. He’s more than willing to lay back and give in for once.

—

The second time it happens is just on the cusp of summer to fall. It’s chilly outside and they’ve already switched to winter uniforms, but today is the first day of the transition from air conditioning to heating. As such, the building is warm and everybody ends up fanning themselves and removing any excess clothing. 

Himari shrugs off her sweater after first period and turns to toss it in her bag, only to be attacked by the sight of her boyfriend rolling up his sleeves. 

“What?” He asks. He doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s dumb. Stupidly horny. She should blame herself for being a stereotypical-sex-crazed teenager. Not him for doing completely normal things.

“Nothing!” She breathes and whips back around to pay attention to the new lecture starting.

But she should know better than to start fidgeting out of the blue, because Atsumu knows exactly what that means. It’s why she doesn’t freeze when her phone lights up with his name. Instead, she jumps, rattles her desk, and wakes up the entire class in her desperate attempt to hide whatever he just texted her.

“Anything to add, Miss Oku?” The teacher calls out. He’s old and wrinkly and can’t see or hear very well, so she’s not worried about the teacher confiscating her phone, let alone being suspicious of her misbehaving. She can see her phone light up again with a text from under her hand and shakily answers.

“I was just thinking about the connection between the field of wildflowers blooming and the gardener realizing his true feelings for the married woman.” She throws out, hoping that will appease him. She’s lucky, it spurns him into an entire offshoot about the topic and she watches as five other people jump on the topic. As sneaky as possible, she slides her phone’s brightness down and looks at what Atsumu has sent her.

**Atsumu: so can you wait until tonight or are we gonna hafta sneak away so I can fuck you into relaxin?**

**Atsumu: do you wish you were the married woman and i was the gardner havin to screw you behind your husband's back?**

**Atsumu: that’s what you were thinking when we were reading this last night**

**Atsumu: weren’t you**

He’s jumping way too far ahead. The claim has no grounds. Nothing like that thought had crossed her mind. Still… she needed some sort of release. Best to play along.

**Himari: What if I was? What would you do to me?**

She can hear him stifle a grunt and waits impatiently for his response.

**Atsumu: if you needed me so bad i’d say you should find some privacy unless you want me to bend you over in here**

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. It was a baseless threat that was more of a promise than anything else. She raises her hand. 

“Yes, Miss Oku?”

“Can I go to the bathroom, please?”

“Of course, hurry back though.” She immediately leaves and is struck by the fact that she has no idea where to go. It’s not a problem for long because not even sixty seconds after her departure, she hears Atsumu speak up. How ballsy of him. She would think he’d wait a few minutes.

“Sir? I’ve gotta pass to see the nurse right now, if that’s alright.” She can picture him waving around a forged hall pass and flashing that charming smile of his. He’s out the door before even getting a confirmation. He grins like the devil when he spots her waiting for him and grabs her by the wrist, guiding her away with quick steps.

She takes two steps for every one of his and almost squeals when he springs back into an alcove and slaps a hand over her mouth. Two seconds later, the student council president turns the corner and misses them. That would have been a disaster. That guy was a nosy bastard who assumed the worst about people. And while they were busy being the absolute worst, he would cockblock them at any cost and that was not an option. Especially when she could feel Atsumu’s heart beating against her back and his hand sliding off her mouth once he was sure she wouldn’t scream and firmly snaking to settle his arm around her neck.

“I could just do you here.” He whispers, sending a slow shudder through her. They both know it’s not a solid idea, but damn it if the thought doesn’t chill her to the bone.

He seems to know his proposal isn’t exactly plausible, which is probably why he once again starts leading her, this time with his fingers lazily laced through hers. He stops them in the old wing, wiggles the doorknob and kicks at the corner of the door twice before it flies open.

“Atsumu, does this lock?” She’s wary, but she really shouldn’t be. Their relationship wasn’t new to these kinds of stunts. They had been kicked out of two seperate movie theaters for making out. His mother had caught her shirtless on the couch or from failing to knock at least three times. The entire team once passed her while walking into the locker room to find him jersey askew and covered in lipstick stains.

“Don’t worry about it.” He drawls, lopsided grin crawling up to grace his beautiful face. Before she can begin to appreciate the feel of his hands on her, she takes a second to remember what exactly got her into this mess. What had it been? She’s having some minor trouble because he’s busy pushing her against the wall and hiking her leg up for easier access to what he really wants. Only when he grabs her by the thighs and forces her to balance herself on the bare skin of his arms does she have the _ ‘Oh, yeah’  _ moment.

He rolled up his sleeves.

— 

Oh, hot summer days. It was sweltering outside. The kind of heat where he couldn’t step on the pavement without burning his feet at first touch. He’d rather be doing a million other things right now other than fixing a little girl’s blindingly bright princess pegasus bike. He could be swimming. Sitting somewhere with air conditioning. Taking a bath in ice.

Some things made it bearable though. Like the sight of his girlfriend walking around in shorts that showed off long and toned legs. Or that she was bribing him with popsicles. She sits down next to him, a meek smile on her face. She’s disturbingly clean next to him. He’s covered in grease, grime, and glitter.

“Thanks again for doing this.” She mumbles, tucking her knees in and wrapping her arms around them.

He shrugs, sitting back once he tightens another screw on the old bike. “I don’t mind it. Glad ta’ be of service, I guess.” He swipes a hand through his hair and immediately regrets it. He can already feel the grease adhering to his scalp and doesn’t require a mirror to know his hair is sticking every which way.

The girl in front of him doesn’t giggle at his mistake, which leads him to believe she isn’t paying attention, but her eyes are locked on him and her face is turning red as a tomato.

“Hima?” He’s worried. Is she getting heatstroke? He leans forwards to try and press the back of his hand to her cheek but she scuttles back, avoiding his touch. “Do you need some water? You feelin’ hot or something?”

She stumbles over her denial and clamps her mouth shut afterwards and then it clicks for him.

“Are you  _ blushing?”  _

Her answer is vehemently loud. “NO!”

He finally drops the bike wrench and inches closer to his mess of a girlfriend, gently taking hold of her hands.

“Tell me why.” Her lips stay sealed and she shakes her head. “Did I do something? I wanna know.” 

“No.” She lies. 

“C’mon tell meeeee.” He whines like a little kid and she’s secretly thankful that his face is returning to it’s normal, conniving, sly state. The switch makes her feel like she can cool down a bit.

“You’re gonna use it against me.” He most definitely would. If she told him about the problem she had started facing the past couple of days, he would most certainly use it to tease and torture her. Did she know how? She had a few ideas. All would involve embarrassment to the extreme.

He encroaches on her personal space even further. “I promise I’ll be nice if you tell me.” He sings. She weighs her options. Either tell Atsumu and have him laugh in her face or not tell him and face his vindictive retribution.

And so she whispers, “You promise?”

And he nods, repeating himself and then waiting patiently.

“Well, lately…” She’s not exactly sure how to phrase it. “Actually, no. I should start from the beginning. But what is the beginning, then?” Why couldn’t she just blurt it out? “It’s funny, really, because when we first started, um… ya’ know? I just— I thought you were—” She couldn’t find the word and resorted to hand gesturing to Atsumu’s… Everything. “But now we’ve been together a while, and sometimes you do these things that just really  _ ugghhhhmrrrrrph  _ me. And I don’t know why it’s happening and I feel crazy and dumb and—” 

She stops because he looks so confused. He takes that as an opportunity to get a word in.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not making  _ any  _ sense.”

She huffs. “Not even a little?”

“No.”

She deflates and falls back on the grass, staring blankly up at the sky. A light breeze has started up and brushes over her. As well as a newfound blunt explanation that inexplicably pops into her head the moment she sees a cloud shaped like a fish. Funny how the human brain works.

“You do these objectively normal things, like give up your seat on the train for an old lady, or loosen your tie right as the day ends and I think it’s…” This was the hardest part to force out.

“It’s?” He continues for her. She gives him a pointed glare. Can’t he tell she’s trying her best? His assholery is not appreciated.

“I think it’s the most attractive thing in the world! Okay? And yeah, I know it’s established that I like you and am attracted to you since we’re, ya’ know,  _ dating  _ but this happens  _ all the time.”  _ When she looks back at him he has the most impish grin on his face and is struggling to contain laughter. “Atsumu, stop it! You’d said you’d be nice, don’t laugh at me!”

That makes him blow his top because he falls down in the grass as well. His stomach is heaving so hard it must be difficult for him to sit up. “You think I don’t have that same problem?” He says in the middle of a breath.

[... in the good way]


End file.
